A Gold Fish

The emptiness of the world around him bore a striking resemblance to the emptiness that lurked inside of him. Things started to fall into place. He knew all along that the wretched path he had taken would result in no less than disaster. The patterns around him were all too familiar. Yet, the only thing that he could think of was gold fish. Slowly, paranoia took hold of him. Had he turned into a fish? Could the transparent walls be the glass of which the aquarium was made? It certainly made more sense than not. The fluid paintings made sense once he took them to be people and furniture seen through his could-be fish eyes. Dazed from his interesting assumptions he was, that is until the long-expected chain of reason came back to him. How could he be in water when he was just embedded in the maw of the hungry earth? Not to mention that he had legs carrying his weight down a path of what felt like solid ground. The perplexity of his situation started eating at his nerves. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, so he started a one of a kind list. What I am he entitled it. An interesting concept, what was he? He was dead, he was saved, he was lost, he was a fish, he was a man, he was sad. Now, he cried. For love and hope, freedom and peace-peace of the mind, body, soul, and last but least the world- he cried. He cried for what felt like years on end. From fear and confusion, he cried. To God until his throat grew sore, he cried. Nowhere near ready to stop, he swallowed hard, then cried and cried some more. Desperate to contain himself, he lay on his side, grabbed his legs and rested his chin on his knees. His beard hung over his legs all the way down to his ankles. It seemed as though it had been many a year since he started crying. He dismissed the thought shortly after he had had it, in an attempt to clear his mind and calm himself. From there, he slowed his breathing and focused on his senses. The ground felt as soft as snow, and provided comfort ,with which he dozed off into the unknown that is his sub conscience, before he had a chance to interpret his other senses.